


Look After Him, Please, Will You?

by pallasite



Series: Behind the Gloves [73]
Category: Babylon 5, Babylon 5 & Related Fandoms
Genre: Backstory, Canon Character of Color, Canon Compliant, Children, Fix-It, Gen, Male Character of Color, POV Character of Color, Psi Corps, Secrets, Worldbuilding, telepaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 10:39:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12106929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pallasite/pseuds/pallasite
Summary: Kevin Vacit is dying, and he asks Bey to look after Bester after he (Vacit) is gone. Bey doesn't realize what he's in for.This is another key missing scene from canon.The prologue ofBehind the Glovesishere- please read!





	Look After Him, Please, Will You?

**Author's Note:**

> What is this series? Where are the acknowledgements, table of contents and universe timelines? See [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10184558/chapters/22620590).
> 
>  _Behind the Gloves_ is an in-depth series exploring a different side of the Psi Corps from the one presented in canon. This collection of stories presents readers with history, context, and slices of the lives of relatable protagonists covering 150 years of canon history, from the inception of laws that segregated telepaths through the aftermath of the Telepath War. By providing readers with the "rest of the story," with a nuanced (and not "one-sided") presentation of facts and events, I demonstrate that canon is misleading, and the truth is not as it seems.
> 
> If you like _Behind the Gloves_ and would like to send me an email, I can be reached at counterintuitive at protonmail dot com. Do you have questions? Would you like to tell me what you like about this project? Email me!

2201

            On graduation day, Kevin Vacit looked out his office window, at the the sprawling green of the Corps' flagship Teeptown campus. The sun shone brightly that cold spring day, but the cheery weather masked a more ambivalent ambience. Below him on the sprawling lawns, students milled about, chatting, laughing, crying. Graduation day was as bitter as it was sweet; students emerged into the wider world and scattered to the four winds, across the Earth Alliance. Some rejoiced that they could at last marry their sweethearts, while others said their last goodbyes to those they had not received permission to wed. Many friends and lovers would never see each other again.

            But as the director watched from above, his mind was on one boy in particular, a boy far on the other side of campus, who was at that very moment graduating from Cadre Prime and receiving his first set of gloves. He hadn’t seen the child in person in years, not since the boy was on the cusp of six, but Kevin had nonetheless kept watch on him from afar: on his social and academic progress, on his development into a young man. Even without line of sight, he tried to reach out now to the boy, to send him approval.[1]

            His grandson, even if the boy would never know.

            Kevin was sick. The doctors were doing their best to prolong his life, but slowly he felt his body failing, and he knew it would not be long till he would follow his mother to the other side. Someone else would sit in his chair, in his office. Someone else - someone with a very different vision for the Corps.

            “Sir? You sent for me?”

            Kevin turned from the window. Before him stood a man he knew well - Sandoval Bey. The fellow was tall, with a salt-and-pepper mustache/goatee, neatly trimmed. He wore a black graduation robes, but under those robes, Kevin knew, Bey wore his MetaPol uniform.

            Bey was a class act. Turkish born and British educated, Bey had been born to privilege in the mundane world, then manifested telepathy as a teen.[2] Like all "laters," he'd entered his new life in the Corps with nothing - no friends, no family, no connections - but nonetheless, through a combination of grit, natural intelligence, and a magnetic personality that commanded respect from teachers and peers alike, he had climbed... no, almost floated to the top of the Corps' social hierarchy. Vacit had once appointed him to the highest position in MetaPol, and without any resentment from his Corps- and Authority-raised colleagues. Indeed, many of these still regretted that Bey had been forced to resign.

            But Mr. Bey had never disappeared. Though he now served in the lower rank of station chief of Geneva, and simultaneously as an instructor in the Major Academy,[3] he had friends and admirers all across the Corps, and maintained his office in the administrative building. Higher officers deferred to him and his judgment; younger faculty and Psi Cops looked up to him as a role-model.[4] There were no laters in administration,[5] save for Mr. Bey. He was, in a sense, the later who had "out-Corps'd the Corps."

            Internal politics in the Corps could be subtle and vicious, but never a bad word about him had reached the director's ears, save the usual grumbling from students about Mr. Bey's high standards and strict adherence to discipline - "faults" that had only endeared him more to those in high positions. The finest Psi Cops had been personally trained by Mr. Bey. In his role as an instructor, he was transforming the once undisciplined, disorganized MetaPol of a decade earlier into something far greater.

            “Mr. Bey. Have a seat.” Kevin gestured. “I’m sorry to take you away from the graduation festivities.”

            Bey remained standing. “I remain at your beck and call, director.”

            Festivities - Kevin had used the word somewhat ironically. Later that day, Bey would be sending his students off into the field, to their Psi Cop internships. Many would not survive to their first promotion.

            "I have a favor to ask of you," Kevin continued.

            “Anything, director. I remain forever in your debt.”

            Kevin waved his bare hand. “Mr. Bey, I am an old man, and I don’t have long left in this world. My replacement… well, I’ve got word on who the Senate is considering, and…” he shook his head. “It doesn’t look good. Not good at all.” He coughed, clearing his throat, and with a shaking hand, took a sip of water. “There’s not much you can do about that, Mr. Bey, but there is one matter I can still leave to you. Something personal.”

            Bey nodded, not disguising his surprise. The director trusted very few people - fewer still with personal matters.[6] Natasha had been closest to him,[7] but she'd been reassigned to Mars, and rarely came by campus anymore.

            “There is a boy graduating from Cadre Prime today," continued the old director. "He will be entering the Minor Academy any day now. His name is Al Bester, and he is an orphan. His parents died when rogues bombed Geneva. Very sad. He has tremendous potential. He was even born manifested, they say. He's destined for great things. Very great things... I can feel it. He’s going to be a Psi Cop, if he doesn't self-destruct. Keep an eye on him, would you? Look after him, when I’m gone?”[8]

            Bey looked at him with obvious puzzlement.

            Kevin knew, without doubt, that Sandoval Bey was the right man for the job. Ever since Natasha's reassignment to Department Sigma, he and Bey had worked more closely together than ever before.[9] Bey had the right temperament: he was strict, but kind. Strong, but compassionate. And as both an instructor and a Psi Cop, could look after the child in ways no one else could.

            “Yes, I know it’s an unusual request. We teach that the Corps is Mother and Father, and like in any family, none are to be favored over any others. But… we are all human, Mr. Bey. We all have our failings, and this is mine. Will you do this for me, an old man who doesn’t have long to live?”

            “Of course, director. Anything you ask.”

            Vacit's favoring of this one particular child was something of an open secret in the top ranks of the Corps' administration, but no one knew why.[10] Even Natasha, when asked by the others, had denied any knowledge of the director's reasons.[11]

            Kevin could feel Bey's mind spinning with all the questions he wanted to ask, but would never dare.

            _Why this one boy? Why is he different from the others?_

            No one fully understood the director, even Natasha. Certainly not Mr. Bey.

            As it should remain.

            “Good," said Kevin. "He has a difficult life ahead of him, and I haven't made it any easier by favoring him.[12] Look after him. Guide him, train him. Keep him alive."

            "Of course, sir!"

            "And never tell him that I asked this of you. The Corps is his family, as it should be.”

            “Yes, director.”

            Kevin nodded slowly, and looked back out the window. He could feel Bey wondering what he was looking at… or towards.

            “The future, Mr. Bey. I'm looking toward the future. Look at them down there… they are the future of the Corps - the future of humanity, too. You may go now. Your students want to say goodbye.”

            Bey hesitated, then finally turned to leave. When he had stepped out, Kevin reached out telepathically for one last goodbye of his own - to the boy who would unknowingly carry on his legacy.

            "Goodbye, Al," he said to the empty air.

 

[1] Gregory Keyes, Deadly Relations, p. 37

[2] Deadly Relations, p. 95. ("Bey's father was Turkish, from the hill country, a poor boy who rose to political prominence. His mother had been the British ambassador to Turkey, and they had lived there until he was six, when his father was murdered by a political dissident. Thereafter, Bey had been raised in London, and had spent long summers with a grandfather who lived near Madrid. He had joined Psi Corps as a teen - Al really wasn't sure exactly when or under what circumstances.")

[3] _Id._ ("He had once been an executive officer in MetaPol - maybe the chief - but had retired from the position after only two years, to become station chief of Geneva. He was an instructor at the Major Academy, teaching advanced criminology.")

[4] Deadly Relations, p. 94-95. ("What he did know was that Sandoval Bey was an important man. He knew that because his office was in the administrative building, because even high officers deferred to him, because he had challenged the director [Johnston] and still had his job.")

[5] Inference. Deadly Relations, p. 200.

[6] Deadly Relations, p. 109 ("Mr. Bester, I worked closely with Director Vacit in his last years here. He took few into his confidence, but he confided in me now and then. Those of us who knew him well were aware that - he took a certain interest in you, Mr. Bester. Over all of the other students. None of us ever knew why, not even Natasha, who was closest to him.")

[7] _Id._

[8] Inference, p. 109. ("It was one reason I was keeping my eye on you, out of respect for him, though as I think you know, I've found reasons of my own to be concerned for you.")

[9] Deadly Relations, p. 109.

[10] _Id._

[11] _Id._

[12] Deadly Relations, throughout. See p. 109-110 ("He knows, Mr. Bester- Johnston knows that Director Vacit took an interest in you. Like me, he doesn't know why. That bothers him a lot. And so he keeps a close eye on you, Mr. Bester. And those you associate with. You have a bright future ahead of you, Mr. Bester, but you have an enemy. He will be the more your enemy if you and I continue our association, especially now.") See also p. 169 (" _[T]he old director took a great interest in you and I ... honor him._ Her eyes shifted away, then back. _I know you've suffered from being his favorite - you might as well benefit this once. Even though I'm not certain this is a benefit - I think you should have the scans. But it's your decision. I'm probably the only person who will give you such consideration._

_"Ma'am - can you tell me why Director Vacit was interested in me?_

_"He never told me. I never knew."_ )


End file.
